For Fawkes' sake

I’ve had a lot of time to think about fireworks - mostly in bed at night, gritting my teeth, at my previous home in Upper Hutt.

Somewhere, across the back fence, lived a household of chronic firework nutters. I never figured out which address was theirs. I often wondered what it cost them, or where they even found the money, because they stockpiled enough to let off fireworks all year round, no matter how dry the conditions - at any hour, on any night of the week, and sometimes in broad daylight.

And they were, of course, acting entirely within the rules.

This went on for years - even after I posted a plea on the community Facebook page, when my much-loved cat Kōwhai was killed. The fireworks had spooked him, and he ran in front of a car. We sped him to the urgent vet, me behind the wheel, tears down my face on the grey of the motorway; but really, we knew he was already gone.

The SPCA has called on the new Prime Minister to ban the private sale and use of fireworks.1 He’s ruled it out, noting that more and more, people are choosing to attend public displays.2 And look, we’ve all heard these arguments before, a bunch of times. But what’s different, maybe, is that the public is increasingly on the SPCA’s side.

A recent survey by AMI insurance is reported as finding 53% of respondents want private use of fireworks banned, and 20% want fireworks banned altogether.3 If that’s representative, nearly three quarters of us are kinda fed up. And retailers have been responding to the shift in demand, with the Warehouse, Kmart, Foodstuffs and Woolworths all pulling fireworks from the shelf.4

People have strong views on this stuff. Fireworks are, well, inflammatory. But the debates fall short on facts, so I decided to gather some. Would fireworks turn out to be as stupid as I think?

Here’s my attempt at a short explainer.

So: what are the rules, and where did they come from?

If you’re around my age, you’ll remember the ‘good old days’. Not only could you drink from the hose, but fireworks were indiscriminately available, and being an idiot with them was almost a rite of passage - something boys would come to school and boast about. One lad, truthfully or not, told a story about torturing a frog.

Back then, there was a rule around not being a dick with fireworks in the Summary Offences Act 1981 - which is a like a catch-all law for imaginatively stupid shit people might pull that doesn’t fit anywhere else. The fireworks rule was (is) in the same part of the Act that governs throwing stones, disrupting meetings, pooing in public, and putting up posters without permission.5 That rule was about it.

From time to time you’ll see people longing for those good old days, when we were free to take risks - and, of course, we took them with common sense. Did we? Data from back in the day is hard to come by, but research from 1994 reports that, between 1979 and 1992 (inclusive), 237 people went to hospital with injuries from fireworks. That’s 16 to 17 people a year, on average, or 0.52 per 100,000. Males were 85% of victims. Kids aged 14 and under were 68%. And kids aged 10-14 had the highest rate of injury, at 2.5 per 100,000 people a year.

In 2001 the Government changed tack. It introduced something called the Hazardous Substances (Fireworks) Regulations 2001. People were still being dicks, so in 2007, the regulations were tightened. And that’s the origin of the rules we have today:

• Fireworks can only be sold to people aged 18 and over.

• They can only be sold for four days a year, from 2 November to 5 November.

• Some kinds of fireworks can’t be sold at all.

• Sparklers can only be sold as part of packages.

• Fireworks can’t be too loud.6

Councils also have the ability to make bylaws around fireworks, but with the noteworthy exception of Auckland - where you can only let off fireworks at certain times of the day - not many seem to.7 This is perhaps because, as Auckland Council notes, bylaws aren’t that effective.8

As recently as early 2021, the Ministry for the Environment (who ‘owns’ the regulations) advised their Minister that the rules around fireworks probably don’t need to be stricter, if you’re looking only at harm to people. (They acknowledged they weren’t taking into account the public’s concerns about animal welfare.)9

OK. What does the actual evidence say?10

What about harm to property and places?

It’s fair to say, the evidence here is difficult to draw conclusions from. Trying to figure out a trend from FENZ data (2009 to 2019) is a … hot mess. Get it? GET IT?11

This data shows fires caused by fireworks, most of which are bushfires. You’ll see that we were relatively sensible in 2009, before a period of national stupidity lasting up to 2017 - the worst year seeing 345 fires. This came down in 2018, and down much further in 2019, to a low of 38. It’s pretty hard to say whether this is the start of a good thing, or simply a blip.

Of course, this doesn’t tell us about the severity of damage caused by these fires. In some cases, we know that damage has been significant. As just one example, there was a significant fire on last year’s Guy Fawkes, at Te Mata peak.12 Tūpuna Maunga have been closed to the public for several days around 5 November, because the risk is simply too great: fires broke out in both 2019 and 2020.13 Add to that the wildcard that is climate change: FENZ warns that increasing number of extreme-fire-risk days each year make fireworks a greater danger.14

But taking the data at face value, it’s possible that fireworks-related damage to property is lessening - or at least, not getting worse.

What about harm to animals?

OK, this is trickier. Anecdotal evidence is pretty clear: you know, as a pet owner, when your furry friend is scared or distressed. Much of what we know comes from statements by the SPCA:15

• Pets have a rubbish time. The SPCA reports it gets dozens of calls each year, in relation to animals that have been scared by fireworks and run off in distress, have been injured, or have even been deliberately hurt.

• Farm animals are affected too. The SPCA reports that in a survey of horse guardians (best job title ever), 35% reported their horses had broken through fences in panic at fireworks, with 25% reporting this caused the horses injury.

• Last, but certainly not least, fireworks are shitty for native birds. Birds can become distressed and disoriented, crashing into things and hurting themselves, or can even abandon their nests.16

Further, and maybe more disturbingly, are the following facts, quoted directly from a briefing to the Minister by a group of major organisations and concerned individuals, calling for a ban on the private sale and use of fireworks:17

• On 5 November 2019, a nyala died at Wellington Zoo due to high stress caused by fireworks.
• In 2018, as a result of fireworks being let off near Auckland Zoo, a wallaby joey was ejected from the pouch and died that evening.
• New Zealand research has shown that 6 per cent of cat and dog owners and 26 per cent of horse owners have reported injury to their animals caused by fireworks.
• Of animals suffering injuries, an average of 12.5 per cent died – due either to sustained injuries themselves or subsequent euthanasia. 
• Between 4.9 and 13 per cent of physical injuries to animals were due to deliberate misuse of fireworks.

It’s that last statistic in particular that’s so sobering. Common sense, right?

It’s hard to know whether harm to animals is getting better or worse over time; but it’s fair to assume that where there are fireworks around animals, there’s harm. It makes little difference how responsibly the fireworks are being let off.

What about harm to people?

This one is a real mixed bag. You saw the evidence I quoted above, from back in the day - 16 or 17 people a year put in hospital by fireworks. That was before regulations were introduced around the sale of fireworks. Are these new rules working?

Looking at data from 2003 to 2018, we can again see numbers of people sent to hospital by fireworks injuries.18 Remember, this is the period after the regulations were introduced.

Honestly, I don’t know how to interpret this - or if any interpretation is even possible, given how much the numbers jump around, from 5 through to 21 hospitalisations in a year. That’s something wiser heads than mine would need to do; but if they’ve done it, I haven’t managed to find it.

But who exactly is getting hurt? This is something we can understand better - and maybe where we need to pay attention. ACC collects data on people injured by fireworks (and remember, not everyone who claims ACC goes to hospital, so these numbers are different from the data above). Here are the highlights - or maybe lowlights - of data released by ACC last year:

• ACC accepts an average of 300 claims for fireworks injuries each year.

• Claims peak in November.

• Young men and children are most often injured.

• Kids under 10 make up a quarter of ACC claims related to fireworks.

• Between 2017 and 2021, kids aged 0-4 suffered the most fireworks related injuries.19

It’s that last one that broke my heart. Sparklers, apparently. They represent everything we want for our kids: wonder, delight and joy. But they burn so hot the damage can be irreparable, before a child knows what’s happening; before they can even cry out for the adults meant to protect them.

Are fireworks as stupid as I think?

I’ve been talking about fireworks as if the issues are clear cut - when really, they’re not. Wherever social harm arises, so do the same questions. To what extent do we take away people’s rights, in order to prevent them doing harm? When should the preferences of the majority get to dominate the minority? What level of harm should we tolerate in return for something else - culture, nostalgia, or even just fun?

As I looked at the evidence I asked myself, am I just old? Am I going conservative, moaning about young people having fun? Am I classist? Judging by the debates on the local community Facebook page, it’s the more - ah - boganfully oriented community members who most love letting off fireworks, and are most inclined to offer the rest of us ‘a cup of concrete’. I hear their voices loud and clear. The kids and animals and whenua we’re hurting, not so much.

I miss Kōwhai. He and Atawhai were rescue cats, brothers. They weren’t biological brothers, but after they were found a few weeks apart - abandoned and abused - they somehow found each other, became inseparable at the shelter. Atawhai was the bolder one, cheerful and silly, not the smartest. Kōwhai was sharper, more cautious, and more reserved. It took a lot to win him over, the gentleness of humans, our patient hands and voices, our care. Those two loved each other, in a way that defied everything you might expect of cats.

The were meant to get old together, stomping around in the middle of the night, driving me nuts, until they grew too arthritic and content and fat.

Atawhai on the left, Kōwhai on the right.